


A Total Disaster, A Perfect Date

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bottom Castiel, Cybersex, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best part of Cas' weekends starts on Friday nights, with his bedroom door locked, his laptop on his bed, and his clothes strewn all over the floor. If he's allowed to hope, it might be the best part of Dean's weekends too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. TGIF

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for this prompt on the kink meme: "Dean (~24) and Castiel (16) meet online, Dean coaxes Cas into jerking off for him. Later sometime, Castiel's older brother brings home a friend from work for dinner, and it turns out that it's Dean, the same Dean who Cas has been having cyber sex with. Awkward!family dinner and maybe Dean and Cas get to spend some time alone...?"

**_JeffersonStarships69_**   ** _is now online._**

Cas beamed and shifted on his bed, not bothering to hide his excitement. He reached up to fix his webcam, double checking that it wasn't too dark in his room for him to show up on screen.

Satisfied, he placed his laptop back down on the pile of pillows in front of him and crossed his legs, then flicked the mouse pointer over to Dean's name, a mere click away from starting the conversation before a notification was already flashing on his screen.

A sigh. Dean  _always_  beat him to the invite button.

 ** _Hello Dean._**  he typed, tapping the enter key with a grin.

This was always the best part of his weekends, staying up far too late to chat online while the rest of his family slept on. After five straight days of getting pushed into metal locker doors, avoiding the seniors like the plague so they left him alone, and trawling through stacks of homework given by unforgiving teachers, he couldn't have asked for a better way to unwind.

Dean waved at him from the screen, the movements jarred and laggy as they always were when Cas started up his computer. He drummed his fingers lightly on the keys, waiting for the internet connection to fix itself while Dean typed away on the other side.

 ** _sup angel_**  appeared in the chat box a second later, and Cas still couldn't help the blush that came to his cheeks at the nickname. He was sure Dean could see it even in the relative dark of the room, judging by the low chuckle that buzzed through his headphones a moment later.

 ** _looks like you missed_**   ** _me,_**  and yes, Dean definitely saw the flush on his face.

 ** _Yes._**  Cas typed back, wishing he looked as composed as he sounded in writing. Dean had teased him for it before, back when he'd first discovered Cas was actually just a teenager and not, in fact, quite as 'eighteen and over' as he was supposed to be. Fortunately for Cas, Dean obviously hadn't seemed to mind despite the nearly-eight year age gap.

 ** _It's very nice to see you._**  he continued when Dean winked at him but didn't write anything else. 

**_same to you_ **

**_Did you have a good day at work?_ **

**_lol dont ask_ **  
**_tgif_ **

**_I agree._ **

He typed out his next message but hesitated over the 'send' key, fidgeting on the mattress for a moment.

**_something on your mind, angel?_ **

Oh, whatever. He sent the message away.

**_Anything I can do to help?_ **

He watched Dean sit back, and gnawed at his lower lip a little nervously. Did he say the wrong thing? Usually they chatted a little more than this before it got too serious.

**_could be_ **  
**_if you wanna_ **

Cas sat up a little straighter and Dean's warm laugh drifted into his ears again.

 ** _I could take this off for you._**  Cas lifted the hem of his shirt and looked up at Dean from under his lashes.

 ** _id like that_**  Dean typed back, the reply near-instant.

Cas felt his face heat and quickly looked down to hide it as he took his headphones off. They'd gotten tangled around him once before, when he'd been too keen and forgotten they were still on his head, much to his mortification.

Now for the t-shirt. He glanced up at the screen again to check Dean was still watching, before he pulled the fabric up over his head and folded it up in his lap. The room was colder than he expected and he shivered, his chest stuttering with a breath. He saw himself in the corner of the screen, pale chest a stark contrast to the dark behind him, nipples beginning to peak in the cool air.

**_nice_ **

Cas flailed his hands over the keys, not sure what to say. 'Thank you' seemed a little odd.

**_reckon you could take the rest off too?_ **

**_Okay._**  The word was sent away without a second thought.

He shuffled back a little and got up to his knees, then fiddled with the button on his pants.

**_wait_ **  
**_put your headphones back on_ **

Cas scrambled to grab them and place them back over his head, heart beating rabbit-fast with anticipation. Just thinking about Dean's smooth, deep voice ringing through his ears, while he jerked himself off with slow, leisurely pulls; it was almost too much.

"Can you hear me?" Dean asked, and Cas couldn't help the little shiver that ran down his spine.

**_Yes._ **

"Turn your microphone on too," he said, pointing to his own, his voice that perfect level of husky and aroused Cas would never get enough of.

**_I can't. Everyone's sleeping._ **

"You don't need to talk, I just wanna hear you. Come on, Cas."

Cas' breath hitched and he rushed to flip the microphone down from his headset. Then he returned to his unbuttoned trousers, feeling a thrill at the sound of Dean's soft groan as he let them fall past his thighs.

He pulled gingerly at the waistband of his boxers, unsure whether to continue, and looked back up at Dean for guidance.

"You hard for me, Cas?"

Oh god, the way Dean said his name. He nodded, crossing his legs just a little in embarrassment. The thought that Dean could see the outline of his cock against the material while he knelt up like that made his head spin. He didn't need to look down to know the material was beginning to tent over his crotch.

"Hey, no need to hide from me. Don't be shy," Dean chuckled, "Can I see?"

They hadn't ever gone this far before, they'd only talked dirty to each other with hands down their jeans.

Cas swallowed but otherwise, he didn't hesitate for long. He sat back and took a shaky breath, then worked his boxers down until the head of his cock - now fully hard - peeked out, and the pull of the silky material over his skin made him whimper.

After Dean's appreciative little sound on the other side of the monitor, he fully realised just what a good idea it was to have his microphone turned on.

"Look so good, Cas," Dean breathed, "You're so sensitive, aren't you? Every touch just sending you crazy?"

Cas nodded, mouth falling just a little open, and reached down to close a fist over his cock. He was so hard, jerking himself off with Dean's voice in his ear and Dean's face hovering on the screen in front of him.

He sat up to slide his boxers all the way down to his knees, mewling into the microphone he was so pleased when Dean made a low  _mm_  at the sight.

It took all his willpower to return to the keyboard, tapping out something quick before he wrapped his fingers back around himself.

**_Are you doing this too? Touching yourselfwatching m?_ **

He couldn't bring himself to care about the spelling mistakes; he was far too busy indulging in the sound of Dean's replying groan, a growled "You know I am."

Cas watched Dean intently on the screen, slowing his strokes until they matched the pace of Dean's arm flexing under his desk.

"Holy shit, are you --" Dean muttered when he noticed, and Cas wasn't sure if he was supposed to respond or not. Dean started moving faster, and Cas moaned in relief as he followed, until Dean abruptly ordered him to stop.

He froze immediately, though his chest still heaved with the exertion and he let out a frustrated whine.

"Fuck, you're so obedient. Such a good boy for me. Want you to touch your tits for me, can you do that?" Dean asked, waiting for Cas to reach up with one shaky hand to stroke over his pebbled nipples. "Yeah, that's it. Give 'em a little tug."

Cas pinched at one and couldn't help but whimper, the sharp bite of pressure making his hips jerk up like they were tied with string.

Without realising it, he'd already started stroking himself again, rolling his thumb over the head at each upward stroke. A shiny drop of pre-come beaded at the slit, and he swiped a finger over it, knowing Dean would see.

"Taste it, Cas, go on. Just a lick," Dean cooed, the suggestion making Cas' eyelids flicker wide. He had never...

But at the sight of Dean leaning forward at his computer, watching Cas so intently with a red flush of his own over his freckles... Cas would have done anything.

He brought his hand up to his mouth and licked the smear from his fingertips, his tongue darting out to catch the taste. It was strange, a little bitter and salty, but not so bad.

But Dean's responding groan was the true reward.

"God, you're so perfect. Suck on your fingers a little, yeah, just like that..." he instructed, voice so husky with arousal it was almost crackling over the connection. Cas dipped two fingers into his mouth, running his tongue over them, imagining they were Dean's.

"You ever finger yourself, Cas? Fuck yourself like that while you jerk off?"

Cas' breath came out as a shaky gasp as he nodded, a fierce blush spreading down to his chest. He was a closeted, hormonal, horny sixteen-year-old. What did Dean expect?

"You wanna do that for me now, then?" Dean continued, and Cas could have come just from the image of that alone - sinking down onto his fingers with Dean leading him every step of the way, or even - oh god - imagining it was _Dean's_  fingers inside him, brushing over his prostate, making him moan...

He must have moaned out loud too, not just in his thoughts, because he could hear Dean's soft laugh as he scrambled to pull his boxers down further and shuffle around on the bed until Dean could see all of him.

When he settled again he was leaning back against the wall on another pillow, legs spread on either side of the laptop camera so the camera could see everything from his chest down to his ass.

With one hand still fisted tight around his cock, he reached further down to trace his saliva-slick fingers around the small furled entrance, prodding in experimentally. It'd been a while, and it took some time to work himself in up to the first knuckle, but it was so worth it. He hissed at the slight burn as his muscles parted around his index and middle fingers, vaguely registering Dean's breathless encouragement.

It wasn't quite slick enough, with only spit to ease the way, but it felt so good Cas couldn't bring himself to care. He curled his fingers around inside himself, relishing the feel of the stretch and the fullness of it as he searched for that one sweet spot.

It took so long he grew impatient, resorting to thrusting his fingers in and out in blind abandon as the hand around his cock brought him closer and closer to the brink. The combination of nerves and arousal, wanting to make Dean feel good while also so desperate for release... He was dizzy with pleasure, the overload of sensation with Dean still whispering into his ear and the fireworks being set off behind his eyes, clenched shut in concentration as he --

All it took was one unexpected jab into his prostate and he was gone, come spilling out over his stomach as he bit down  _hard_  onto his bottom lip. But even that couldn't entirely mask the wanton moan he let out - "Ngh,  _Dean!_ "

He panted and shook through his orgasm until it finally left him, slumping to the side as he came down from his peak. His fingers stayed where they were locked inside himself, too exhausted to move except for the small twitches that still ran through his body.

Dean swore and moved faster, the slick sounds muffled through the headphones and barely audible beneath Cas' own heaving breaths, until finally - with a loud bitten-off gasp of his own - he came as well.

A long moment passed as they each sat back, panting and catching their breath.

"That was perfect, Cas. God, you're incredible."

Cas could only manage a quiet, incoherent mumble into his microphone.

It took him a while but he eventually worked up the energy to reach the keys.

**_I wish you were here._ **

Dean made a small surprised sound and Cas stared at him through the monitor, praying he hadn't said something to ruin it all.

But all Dean said in reply was, "Yeah, me too."

And Cas practically purred with pleasure.


	2. Dinnertime

The following week passed terribly, as it always did.

Cas drudged home from the library where he hid every afternoon until the others were long gone, his back feeling like it was about to break under the weight of his schoolbag. There were essays to write, exercises to catch up on, a group project he'd inevitably have to complete alone, and a bruise the size of an apple on the back of his elbow from Phys Ed. 

All he wanted was to collapse on his bed and sleep.

No such luck - not that he was surprised. When he dumped his books out onto his desk, his phone made a beep that was far too happy for his liking.

**_Colleague coming for dinner tonight._**

Cas sighed and slumped into his bed to bury his face in the pillow. He whined like a boiled kettle. Michael  _always_  chose the worst days to invite people over.

He wouldn't complain about it, of course, at least never to Michael's face. Ever since their mother moved out of the country years ago and Father disappeared more-or-less off the face of the planet, it'd fallen to the eldest brother to take care of their whole family. Cas didn't envy it one bit, not with Gabriel constantly turning up with the police on his tail, or Inias still suffering night terrors, or Alfie scared of the toilet flushing, or Balthazar's endless detentions and parent-teacher meetings, or Anna's habit of running away from home. 

Another unavoidable part of it was that Michael had to throw himself completely into his work, including all the horrors of business networking and making good with the company's senior executives before they all tried to oust him from his role as acting CEO. And that meant fortnightly family dinners with frighteningly prim businesswomen and old men who leered at Anna across the table until Michael pulled them aside for a scolding like a stern headmaster and they slunk away in apparent shame.

Cas wondered which type it would be tonight.

Either way, there was no hope of wearing his pyjamas to the dinner table tonight. It was something Michael hated him doing, but usually he could get away with it. 

There was also no hope of getting any of his work done, not when he now had to head out to pick Inias up from school and call Balthazar to tell him to take the bus - texting was a lost cause with that brother - and make sure Gabriel didn't eat too many sweets before dinner (hilarious, because Gabriel had five years on him) and  _then_  check that Alfie still remembered how to put pants on. At least he didn't have to worry about Anna, who might either turn up or not.

**_Okay_.**  he finally texted back. It was going to be a really long night. 

 

 

 

Not everything went off without a hitch, but Alfie was finally fully dressed, Balthazar was on his way home from school, and Inias looked happy enough watching cartoons on the couch while Cas cleared out the last of Gabriel's lolly wrappers from what seemed to be every single surface in the house. 

Exhausted, he was just about to consider taking a quick nap when Michael's car pulled up in the driveway.

"Michael's home!" Inias called out, as if Cas wasn't standing right there by the window to see it.

He smoothed down his shirt and went to the door to open it, pausing when he heard laughter and easy chatter. That didn't sound like the Michael he knew - usually it was polite water-cooler chuckling, not something that actually sounded like they were friends.

That was curious indeed.

And then, when he opened the door, Castiel nearly had a heart attack.

That was  _Dean._ Dean as in JeffersonStarships69 Dean, I-get-off-thinking-about-you-every-night Dean, kind green-eyed freckly burning-hot  _Dean._

Cas must have looked like a fish, standing there with his mouth flapping open. Michael, mind occupied as ever, didn't seem to notice, thank the heavens, but he did nudge Cas aside just a little so they could actually get in through the door.

"Dean, this is Castiel, my little brother. Castiel, Dean Winchester," Michael introduced them formally, while Dean stuck a hand out for Cas to shake.

"Nice to meet you," Cas mumbled, still numb, still staring. He took Dean's hand and Dean squeezed it with a smile - the same smile that greeted him every Friday night over the internet before they dissolved into dirty talk and dirty pictures and...

Cas hurried away down the hall, making some excuse about getting him a drink.

He stopped in his bedroom and tried not to bang his head against the wall too loudly, while Michael made the same introductions for each sibling in descending order of age, and Dean greeted them all with equal politeness.

Oh Jesus,  _Dean._

He wanted to crawl down a pit and die.

They must have noticed by that point that Cas never returned with the drink he'd offered, but Michael didn't come up to his room to remind him, probably assuming that Cas wanted to be alone for a while before dinner started, as always.

He could have done his homework while he waited, he thought idly, but he knew logically that there was no way he'd be able to get anything done with the way he was hyperventilating right now.

This was  _awful._  Dean was friends with  _Michael._  Actual, real, honest-to-god  _friends_. Oh god, he probably never wanted to talk to Cas again. 

From his room he could hear them puttering around in the kitchen downstairs, pots clanging and laughter - mostly Dean's - bubbling up as they talked. Of course Dean would be the perfect gentleman, insisting on helping to prepare dinner even though he was the guest, but never in a stuffy over-polite way like their family always was. No, it'd be genuine and friendly, just like Cas always imagined when he...

He opened his eyes and looked down sharply, and ground the heel of his hand into his dick, trying to calm it like some kind of wild animal. Dinner was going to be  _impossible_.

 

When Michael called him down to help set the table, he leapt off his bed with a groan and stumbled down the stairs, trying very hard not to look like he'd been tugging at his cock while his entire family and his brother's colleague were just downstairs mere feet away. But his erection had been utterly impossible to tame, and he didn't know any other way to make it  _stop._

Michael might not have known but Dean must have. Cas caught his eye as he moved into the kitchen to dig out the cutlery from the drawer. There was no winking, no knowing smile, but Cas was certain anyway.

They were having pasta bolognese, something simple and easy to cook after a long day at work. Gathered around the table like a happy little family, Cas felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb; like everyone who so much as looked at him would know he'd been letting Dean see him online, naked and horny. He twirled the spaghetti around his fork and shovelled it into his mouth, swallowing even though it turned to ash the moment it hit his tongue.

He could remember every moment of the previous weekend, when that fateful Friday - with one hand around his cock and the other in his ass, showing off for Dean like he was being paid for it - had seemed to set off something wild and rebellious in him. Saturday night had been similarly spent, locking himself in his room while he did everything Dean told him with wanton enjoyment. And so had Sunday night, making Monday all the more unbearable when they both had to tear themselves away to their respective real lives.

The memory made him blush, and this time Michael  _did_  notice.

"I hope you're feeling alright, Castiel," he said, interrupting the conversation he was having with Dean to shoot his younger brother a concerned look.

"I - I'm fine. Just a little warm, that's all."

The tiny raise of Dean's eyebrows seemed to shout across the table  _I'll bet_.

"Make sure you're not falling ill," Michael said conclusively, as if that was something Cas could control. "We haven't had time to find you a new doctor yet."

Then he and Dean fell back into another easy conversation, this time about the overprescription of ineffective antibiotics for viral infections. Meanwhile, Cas tried very hard to turn his thoughts away from sex and scoff down the pasta as fast as he could so he could excuse himself.

"So uh, Castiel," Dean said a few minutes later, when Cas had lost track of the conversation. "I hear you're gonna be a junior soon."

Cas flinched in surprise and almost dropped his fork, the piece of silverware clattering to the plate as he picked it back up.

"Um, I, yes," he stuttered, "You can call me Cas if you like. Only Michael calls me Castiel."

"Okay, Cas it is," Dean smiled, and suddenly Cas really, really wished he hadn't said that. Just hearing  _Cas_  in that velvety low voice, it  _did_  things to him. Things that should never ever happen in front of his entire family at the dinner table. "You enjoying school?"

No, he wasn't, and Dean knew the answer to that already. But Cas glanced at Michael then back at Dean, and gave the usual stock reply. "It's alright."

Dean chuckled and the sound gave him butterflies. "Yeah, well, two years to go. Then you can head to college and start earning the big bucks like Michael here, huh?"

Michael snorted and carried on eating, not needing to mention that Dean earned the same. Cas wished he could act as normal as Dean at this table, but the fact of the matter was, there was no way he could stop himself from remembering exactly how Dean had sounded murmuring into his ear, telling him to move faster or deeper, calling him a cheeky little tease. He squirmed and crossed his legs.

"Cas doesn't want to be CEO of some big company," Balthazar interrupted with a mischievous grin. "He's gonna memorise the first thousand digits of pi and teach maths out of a supply closet."

"Balthazar," Michael warned sternly. Balthazar shrugged and announced that it was true anyway, then went back to his spaghetti with a friendly nudge-kick hybrid to Cas' shin, the closest to an apology that he could manage.

Thankfully, after that, the conversation didn't return to Cas. It didn't stop him from hearing all the familiar rise and falls of Dean's voice, though, the murmured agreements that sounded far too much like the way he groaned when Cas did something especially good, or when Cas shyly asked if he could see Dean's dick.

Dinner only lasted twenty minutes, but by the time they'd all cleared their plates, it felt like Cas had finished running a twenty- _year_  marathon.

 

 

When they all left the table and Balthazar was relegated to dishwasher duty, Castiel tried to take the opportunity to scamper away into his room, but Michael was having none of it. It was rude, he'd said with a disappointed frown that made Cas feel like an ant under a shoe.

So, having been deemed old enough to make polite conversation with the adults, he drifted around the living room while Michael and Dean spoke and tried his best not to think about his dick. Or Dean's, for that matter. Unfortunately they were talking about classic cars, which he found neither interesting nor comprehensible, and his mind couldn't help but wander. 

Other than that, everything seemed to be going well until Alfie ran screaming down the corridor after Inias with cordial spilled all down his shirt.

Michael let out a tired sigh and got up from the couch to investigate before they killed each other. "Excuse me, I need to sort this out. Castiel, why don't you go show Dean the garage? I'll be back soon."

And then. They were alone in the room. Cas squirmed and got up from his seat.

"I -- Okay. Um, it's just this way." He scampered away down the hall, not really checking to see if Dean was following. But he was, because when they reached the garage, Cas bumped into his chest as he wheeled back to open the door inward. It took a great deal of effort not to simply collapse onto the warm body behind him.

The light flickered on, and Cas gestured to the row of cars, shiny metal glinting at them. Dean let out a low whistle.

"They belong to my father," Cas said with a small shrug. "I don't know what they're called."

"Not one for cars, huh?" Dean squeezed his shoulder and Cas' stomach flipped.

"No," Cas said apologetically, "But... maybe you could show me what makes them so nice." It sounded so much smoother in his head. Out loud, he cringed at his voice as soon as the words left his mouth.

However, it didn't seem to deter Dean one bit, as he smiled wolfishly and tilted Cas' chin up with two fingers to face him. "Oh, I can show you a lot of things that make them nice."

Cas' breath shuddered in his chest. He tried to say  _yes, please, I'd love that so much_  but his voice threatened to croak and crack. All he could do was nod furiously and wipe his palms down on his pants.

Dean led him to the car furthest from the door into the house, while his heart beat furiously behind his ribs. Any minute now, he was going to wake up and discover that this was completely a dream. Maybe he was still lying in his bed, taking that nap, sleeping all the way through Michael's dinner with some boring office worker. The way it usually happened, they'd be seconds from touching and all of a sudden the man of his dreams would turn out to be exactly that - a dream.

But now there was nothing to deny the reality of Dean's hands roaming up across his arms, fleeting touches barely skimming the surface of his skin. He knew he'd never be able to invent the way Dean grinned down at him like that, confident and cautious all at once, always checking Cas' expression.

"Please," Cas begged when Dean's hands left him to open the car door.

"Sure you want this, Cas?" Dean breathed, and  _oh_  this was what he'd been running through his mind for the past week, the way his name sounded on Dean's voice, mild and teasing and gentle. Cas couldn't groan out a yes fast enough, practically pushing himself into Dean's arms again.

Dean settled into the long lounge of the back seat in one swift movement and pulled Cas in over him, hooking the door closed with his foot. The motion had to be practised, it was so graceful, and Cas felt an irrational spark of jealousy for everyone else who'd seen Dean like this.

"Are you going to -- Can you -- Please fuck me?" Cas stumbled over his words, crawling up to straddle Dean's legs in the cramped seat, only remembering the low roof when Dean's hand came up to protect the crown of his head.

"Do we have time?" Dean returned with another question.

"I, I think so," Cas said as he ground his hips down onto Dean's, unable to stop the juddering movement and the loud gasp that left his throat. It felt so  _good_.

He felt Dean's hands untuck his school uniform, sliding warm dry palms up over his ribs. His own awkward fumbling alone in the dark, the experimental touches to his own body, they were  _nothing_  compared to this. He groaned and tried to copy the movement on Dean, pulling at the dress shirt that Dean was still wearing from work, but Dean's hands closed gently over his.

"Let me do this, okay? Wanna make you feel so good," Dean murmured by way of explanation, nipping at Cas' collarbone. He leaned away and Cas mewled at the loss of contact, before Dean shoved the material up underneath his arms and locked his mouth onto Cas' nipples.

Cas almost screamed, only bringing his knuckles up to his mouth in the nick of time. Oh god, Dean's tongue flicking over the tight nubs, sucking on the skin in ways that he  _knew_  would leave marks for days. There was the lightest brush of teeth, and Cas yelped, fisting his hands in Dean's hair and pushing his chest up into the warm heat like he couldn't get enough. Dean made a sound of surprise but didn't stop, alternating between licking and biting until Cas was a total mess in his arms.

 "I - I need, please, Dean..." Cas squirmed against Dean, and he could  _feel_  Dean's hardened cock underneath the fabric, so close and so tempting. Dean released his nipples and brought his hands down to either side of Cas' waist, thumbs making small circles around the jutting curve of his hips.

"Lean back," Dean ordered. It took some navigation and a bit of flailing as Cas lost his balance, but soon he was lying propped against the door, legs held up around Dean's broad shoulders. He breathed out slowly, revelling in the sight of Dean above him, the loose grip of Dean's hands around his ankles. 

He didn't need to be told what to do next. His hands scrabbled at his zipper, and he pulled them down just enough - boxers coming down too in one fell swoop - to expose his ass as he squirmed below Dean. "Please, please just -- need --"

Dean's finger came up to rest on his lower lip. "Shh, I'll take care of you. Trust me."

Cas groaned and his hips stuttered back, trying to find contact with Dean again.

Then Dean leaned down and  _oh god_ , that was his  _mouth_  on Cas' cock, the wet heat so utterly incredible to his inexperience that he couldn't stop a wail - one that only got louder when Dean started  _sucking_  too.

It was the feeling of Dean's tongue, a delicious swirl over the head of his cock at every upward bob, that nearly brought Cas over the edge. He tugged at Dean's hair, not sure whether to pull him off or try to get more of that mindblowing pleasure, whimpering.

"I'm gonna come, Dean, I'm --"

As abruptly as it started, the hot pressure was gone. Cas' hips thrust up without his control, trying to chase the feeling, but Dean held him down with one firm hand on his belly. He was so  _close_ , he wanted so many things, he wanted Dean inside him any way he could have him and he wanted Dean's mouth back on his cock and he wanted --

"Not yet," Dean grinned, then lay three fingers at the edge of Cas' lower lip, offering. Cas opened his mouth and took them in hungrily, licking and sucking, trying to emulate Dean. This wasn't what he'd imagined at all - it was  _better_ , Dean's long fingers in his mouth, letting him worship and taste as much as he wanted, with the knowledge of what was about to follow.

When they were soaked in his saliva, Dean withdrew them and leaned down to cover Cas' mouth in a deep kiss. Cas couldn't help scrunching his hands back in Dean's hair, trying to bring Dean ever closer, not believing he'd ever get enough of the man.

The kiss was a distraction, and a successful one - he barely noticed Dean's fingers at his ass, slipping inside, until they began scissoring him open.

He tore his mouth away to moan and grasp for a handhold above his head, the feeling almost overwhelming him completely. "D-Dean!"

Dean took that moment to thrust in another finger, and Cas suddenly felt so full he thought - a little hysterically - he'd die from it. They were so deep inside him, more than he'd ever been able to manage alone contorted in his bed, where nothing had ever been before. His legs twitched around Dean's shoulders, and his muscles spasmed in a desperate attempt to get Dean even further inside.

"So greedy for me, aren't you, so beautiful," Dean babbled into his ear as Cas took to clawing at the back of that pristine white shirt, a moaning and squirming mess.

It only took two - three - four more thrusts of Dean's fingers, and Cas had never come so hard in his life, tossing his head back in a soundless wail.

He lay there bewildered and stunned, unable to do anything except stare at Dean in incredulous exhaustion, for a long moment.

"That was..." he panted, every blink still a little fluttery with exertion, "That's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Dean laughed and Cas felt a little silly.

Then he remembered. "Are you - I should - oh, Dean, you're still --" Cas flailed and sat up, reaching for the zipper on Dean's suit pants. Oh he'd been so selfish, just taking and taking without seeing to Dean at all, it was awful -- 

"Hey, no, don't worry about it," Dean said, calming away every attempt by Cas to get at his still-hard cock. "Next time, hm?"

"Next time?" Cas repeated, the words not quite registering. More of this with Dean? It couldn't be real, could it?

"If you want." Dean leaned down to peck him on the forehead.

"I --"

Then the doorknob rattled on the other side of the garage.

"Oh shit," Dean swore, while Cas yelped and scrambled to pull his shirt down and his pants back up. Dean helped him along, all in a mad rush, and they practically fell all over the garage floor in their panic to get out.

Michael walked down to join them beside the car while Dean was still surreptitiously flattening his hair back down where Cas had yanked at it so thoughtlessly.

"Sorry about that," he said in greeting, "You know how kids are."

"Yeah, don't worry, I get it. Must be a handful, you taking care of everyone like this."

Michael shook his head, ever the model modest elder sibling. "No, they're usually very well behaved." 

Cas couldn't quite stifle a smirk at that, not after everything very _not_ well behaved that he'd done with Dean.

"Anyway, this is the family collection," he continued, gesturing at the cars around them, "Unfortunately they're not so well maintained, and I know it's a very big favour to ask of you, but..."

"Hey, no problem. Anything for a friend." Dean stuck his hand out for Michael, while Cas looked on, confused. He'd obviously missed something. "So I'll be around next week to fix them up, check them over?"

Oh.

Cas' stomach did the little flipping thing again.  _Next time_. Dean's words echoed in his mind like a promise.

He was counting down already.

 

 

~fin.


	3. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cas loses his virginity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave in and wrote an extra chapter. Hope you enjoy!

"So, Michael isn't home yet," Cas said, trying to sound casual despite the blood thudding in his ears. He watched from the garage doorway as Dean slid out from under the car.

"Well, hello to you too," Dean smirked at him, covered in grease in such an artful way that it reminded Cas of cheesy 'sexy fireman' calendars. Except Dean was maybe ten times more appealing, he decided, when the image made him cringe from secondhand embarrassment. "And yeah, Michael was here before but something came up, had to dash off again. You know how it goes."

Their eyes locked for several long blissful moments, then Dean gestured back at the car. "Guess I'd better get back to it, then."

Cas couldn't help it. He felt crushed.

Dean had practically ignored him the entire weekend. Oh, he'd definitely been  _online_  - but every time Cas started a conversation Dean would explain that he was too busy, that he'd forgotten the service logged him in automatically, that he'd talk to Cas next time. All this, so soon after they'd  _finally_ met face-to-face in Castiel's own home.

Logically, it made complete sense. Of course Dean wouldn't be interested in him anymore. Certainly not after discovering he was Michael's younger brother, short and lanky and nerdy, with a voice that had only just stopped cracking from the overload of hormones that came with puberty.

"I was thinking, since we're going to be alone and all..." he trailed off, watching as Dean was already getting distracted by the shiny metal of the car.

"Yeah, just let me finish this off first."

Well, he could take a hint.

"Fine. I'll let you work," he finally answered, folding his arms tight across his chest. He'd been stupid; Dean was  _twenty four years old,_ and Cas still thought he'd be interested in an immature teenager? He should have known better. If anything, he should have realised the first time they met that Dean was too good for him, especially after he'd fumbled his way through Dean's blowjob and handjob and... Then, Michael…

He turned away, but Dean must have caught something on his face.

"Hey, Cas. Just let me finish this first,” he heard Dean repeat, this time softer, “I promise."

"Okay," he mumbled. 

Then he went and hid in his room, feeling like an absolute idiot, ugly and rejected.

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at his door. Dean cracked it open a little and peered inside, greeted by Cas’ wide eyes.

“Oh. Dean, it’s you,” Cas blinked, sitting up in half a second flat and hugging the pillow close to his chest. He’d told himself he’d go and knock down some of the huge pile of homework constantly invading his desk, but truth be told he’d felt so awful he couldn’t even bear to look at it. And now Dean had found him moping on his bed like a heartbroken teenager, which, well…

Dean’s face broke into a kind smile and sat down on the bed beside him. “Michael did tell you I’d be coming in today, right?”

Cas crossed his legs and looked away, embarrassed. “Yes, but I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Usually Dean’s smile made everything happy again, but today it didn’t work so well. Probably because he felt like he was being mocked right now.

“Why wouldja think that?” Dean looked genuinely bewildered, and his hand came up to pull Cas’ shoulders around to face him.

“I don’t know. We haven’t been talking very much.” He glanced at Dean pointedly at that.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, baby boy. You know things haven’t been great at the company, we’ve got sales falling through and all that,” Dean shrugged. Cas would have bristled, except Dean tugged him in and tucked his head under a lightly stubbled chin. With his arms still crossed and his body cradled in Dean’s, he felt even more like a child. “You forgive me, don’t you?”

“Don’t make me sound like that,” Cas answered, cross, before relenting. “I do. But you can’t blame me for thinking…”

“I’m sorry, Cas, I mean it. I’ll let you know what’s going on next time, alright? Just thought, since I’m coming over here today and all, I’d get a chance to talk to you soon anyway.”

Cas shifted to throw his arms around Dean, still somewhat miffed but at least comforted now. “You’ve got a chance to do more than just talk to me, you know,” he answered, voice sweet. “And make things up to me while you’re at it.”

“Mm, I’d like that,” Dean grinned, landing a peck on the corner of his mouth. “Sounds like you made plans for us.” He lifted the boy up until Cas moved his legs to either side of Dean’s body, and the rough rub of jeans against dress pants made them both gasp. With only thin layers of fabric separating them, Cas was almost instantly hard.

“I – I have things I’d _like_ us to do, yes,” Cas replied as he only barely stifled a moan; not an easy task when Dean’s hips were grinding relentlessly against his.

“Why don’t you tell me about them, then?” And there was no mistaking the smile on Dean’s face.

 

~

 

“We need lube, condoms,” Dean listed as he moved away, making Cas whine at the loss.

“I… I don’t have, I don’t know, I…” Cas’ tongue refused to form any coherent words, and his brain had long short-circuited after the sight of Dean stripping down to nothing before his very eyes.

Dean chuckled. “No worries, we’re all set, baby boy.” He fished into the pocket of his previously discarded jeans and flipped through his wallet, producing two thin foil packets and tossing them to the bed. Cas breathed out a sigh of relief and he reached for them, about to try tearing them open with his teeth – something he’d only seen in porn, admittedly – but Dean’s hand closed over his own before he could bite.

“It’s not the flavoured kind, so iunno if it would taste any good,” Dean joked with a wink. He tore the foil open and slathered the slick liquid down between Cas’ thighs, slippery and cold, before one long finger – then two, oh god, two of them – scissored open inside him.

Cas moaned and tried to thrust down onto them, impatient and incredibly turned on. “Please… I can take another one, Dean, please, _now!_ ”

Dean leaned down, covering Cas’ body completely with his own, and planted a wet open-mouthed kiss onto his lips. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna get there.”

True to his word, a moment later Dean had worked another finger in alongside the others, but this time he was completely avoiding Cas’ prostate, no matter how much Cas begged and pleaded for it.

At any other time he might have appreciated why Dean was being so _uncooperative_ , staving off Cas’ orgasm until the main event. But for now, he was too busy chasing the pleasure shooting through his nerves to even try to understand Dean’s stubbornness.

Until finally, _finally_ Dean deemed him loose enough and withdrew his hand, making Cas squeak in confused frustration until, with a tear of the final foil packet and one smooth thrust –

Castiel screamed.

It was a blessing no one else was home, because the heavy stretch of Dean’s cock inside him was almost too much. He was dizzy with pleasure, Dean’s nimble fingers pinching at his taut nipples all the while. All he could think of was the incredible feeling of Dean _inside_ , muscles like a vise around him. It did burn, it did sting when Dean shifted, but all Cas could do was moan and claw at the sheets because it felt so _good._

“Please, Dean… Dean, _move_ ,” Cas gasped, breathless.

Dean pushed forward, the length in Cas almost impossible deep – certainly nothing he’d ever experienced, nothing like this he’d ever felt in his life – until he was inside to the hilt, with nowhere else to go.

Then – oh, _then_  - he began to thrust.

Cas felt like he was on fire, burning with the pleasure that sparked beneath his eyelids with every hit to his prostate. He was buzzing with it, mouth dry and throat hoarse as every groan was punched out of him. Dean was so _big,_ taking up all his space and then more, moving and thrusting and fucking, making Cas feel so full he thought he might burst with it. At every push inside, Dean hit Cas’ prostate like a bullseye, and it was like fireworks.

He barely registered his hands had gone from twisting in the sheets to being scrunched in Dean’s hair, holding on for dear life as Dean sucked dark red bits into his collarbone, over his shoulder, around his chest. He’d wrapped his legs around Dean’s back, always trying to pull Dean ever deeper inside him, even as the thick cock pumped in to its full length at every single thrust.

They gasped into each other’s mouths, wordless pants and moans filling the air as they moved, a perfect fit in every kiss, every touch, every plea for more. Cas was in heaven.

And then, just like that, it was over.

Cas came first with a silent shout, back arching off the bed as he spilled across their stomachs. He writhed, oversensitive and still coming down from his high, as Dean continued to fuck him into the mattress.

“Dean, Dean Dean _Dean_ ,” he moaned, breathless, as Dean’s thrusts quickened and became erratic. Finally, with a loud moan into Cas’ neck, he slowed and stopped.

They lay, panting to catch their breath, sandwiched together on the bed for what felt like hours.

Cas slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Dean, green only inches from blue, and the words slipped out by themselves. “I love you.”

Dean’s arm wrapped around his back and held him ever closer as they lay side by side, still catching their breath in the aftermath.

“Love you too, Cas.”


End file.
